


An Advice

by GaboBlue1004



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, F/M, Gendry talks about Arya with a prostitute, Gendry's perspective, Gendry-centric fic, He loves her so much, I'm crying, Set after the events with Melisandre, Spoilers, tons of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaboBlue1004/pseuds/GaboBlue1004
Summary: What was meant as a night of relieving ends up as a moronic game of  trivial question. Then it arrives, the one question he's not willing to answer, not without a heart ache, not without a million and one regrets lingering his heart..."Who's Arya?"Questions, answers, confessions and an advice.





	An Advice

There was one time when Gendry tried, just for the sake of it, and pay a whore in a tavern, at one of the ports he sailed after the events with the Red Witch. Although said happenings left him a little... _wary_ about the subject of women, he was a man, and he was beginning to have the needs that any man has.

However he was anything but an expert. Actually, his only experience within that matter ended up with him almost being killed, so he was quite nervous when the whore –a young, beautiful dark-haired girl named Dunya, with big brown eyes but small breasts - started to undress.

His breathing grew uneasy and his heart slammed furiously against his chest. Well, this was it, he thought, clenching his fists until his knuckles got white. And when she got closer and started to kiss him, he responded meekly, and it all went a little awkward, a little clumsy, as she untied his belt and started to undress him as well. He tried – _really_ tried – to cooperate, especially since Dunya was patient, and kind… but that only made him more uncomfortable, so he couldn’t do much in the end; as pathetic as it sounds, he found that he was incapable to accomplish _anything_ ; his body wouldn’t answer as he wanted it to, his mind wandering between his near-death experience and those stubborn, bright eyes, watching him with a heartbroken gleam. It was a matter of minutes until he was apologizing to the girl, snorting out of frustration.

She just smiled indulgently while getting dressed once again, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Such a shame." She whispered, with a sigh, and something in the way she spoke made his heart bump with nostalgia "You really are a handsome little boy." She added, brushing the long, straight locks of her hair with her fingers.

Gendry snorted once again, just louder, as his ego cringed for the slap "Hmm... kind for you to say that."

"Just speaking the truth." 

There it was again. That _something_ about her tone, the way she spoke... he incorporated, still shirtless, and looked at her, mindfully.

She seemed to notice and glare at him, raising an eyebrow "What?"

The boy cleared out his throat, trying to hide the sudden redness that filled his cheeks "I'm sorry, ma’am-" and at that, it was Dunya's turn to snort, with a reluctant laughter.

"Ma’am!" She repeated, amused, "That may be the sweetest thing any man had ever said to me in a while." She lifted her legs and accommodated at his feet, her head resting comfortably in her own hand "You have already paid, sweet boy, so I'm yours for the rest of the night." She asserted, with a voice so silky it made his blush even brighter.

What a moronic situation. To have this stunning girl just for him and being utterly incapable of enjoying her. He considered the option of dismissing her as gently as he could and then been left alone to choke with his own drool, or something even more pathetic, for what he cared. But instead chose to make her the most random question one can ask a prostitute "Where are you from?"

Dunya looked at him, maybe taken aback by his curiosity, but answered anyway, with a little, malicious smile "I'll just tell you my name is Dunya Snow, so..."

"A northerner." He said, monotone voice, and something inside his gut just made him want to stop breathing at once. It was _that_... the way she spoke, that brusque, sharp accent that made him think of the fierce, little voice inside his head. Gendry just shut his eyes closed, as if he were in great pain.

"Yup. A northerner. What about you?"

"Waters." He responded, eyes still closed and drowned voice.

"King's Landing..."

"Aye."

"..." 

Silence seized the room for what felt like an eternity, and he didn't remember when did everything black out until his eyes opened abruptly, his body covered in icy sweat. After a couple of moments, he stood up, out of instinct. He looked around only to find that sun had set and the room was now silent, dark, empt...

"A bad dream?" Her voice startled him enough to give a small jump, but as soon as his eyes met hers, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't remember..." he lied, cleaning out the sweat in his forehead with the back of his hand “Thought you will be gone by now"

Dunya shrugged "As I told you, pretty boy, you paid for a night, so I’m yours for the night. Besides, if I go back before dawn, my employer won’t be very happy." It didn't look like she'd been sleeping. She was lying in the same position, her right hand cupping her head, her long, lithe frame spread gracefully across the cot and her eyes staring at him with a steady look "If you mind me being here..." she started, but he felt the urge to interrupt her.

"I don't." He assured, yawning "Stay if you want."

She nodded, a thankful smile forming in her lips.

“How old are you?" He asked out of the blue, feeling curious about it.

Dunya lift an eyebrow, a sufficient smile in her lips "Really? Is this how we're going to spend the night? Asking questions instead of fucking?" She sounded genuinely entertained, but before he could say anything, she left out a breath and laughed hard “Meh, I can do it. You’re handsome enough.” She winked an eye to him before answering “Nine and ten.”

“Quite young.” He commented, after a moment of reflecting.

“Not really. They always like little ones better, pay more for them. But given that I’m such a pretty ass, I can still have my part.”

_“Little ones.”_ He thought quivering at the idea, then looking at her once again with the thought that she didn’t look at all like coast prostitute “And how did you end up here?” He blurted, not thinking so much.

Dunya Snow chuckled, getting up from her position, now folding her knees to sit down in front of him, enthusiastically “Not fair, pretty boy!” She protested, with a playful smile, “It’s _your_ turn to answer.”

Gendry grimaced, shaking his head almost immediately “Don’t want to."

“But I just did, and if sweetie is unable to fulfill _me_ , then he must be at least able to fulfill my curiosity.”

Gendry ignored the embarrassment blooming all over him and let out a grunt, which she chuckled.

“Here the rules,” she started, cheerfully “We will answer any question without hesitation.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you’re impotent and because it’s more fun that way. Plus...” she kneel in front of him, her slender figure leaning over, “I promise I will also tell the truth, no matter what you ask.”

Gendry pondered it, and surrender within a moment. What else could he loose? Perhaps this Dunya had something to do with the Red Witch and was to deliver him back to her, or maybe Lannisters sent her to slaughter him in his sleep… it was a possibility, but at that moment it didn’t really matter to him. All he had left were his secrets, his memories and apparently his cursed lineage. Not that he wanted it _anymore._

He thought about that mister –Davos -, who had risked everything to save him from that deadly sorceress, but the sudden realization that everything he cared about was gone now, made him shrug nonchalantly.

“What’s the reason of your _disability_?”

Ugh, not a nice start “Not sure. Had a bad experience.” _to say the less_ , but it wasn’t none of Dunya’s incumbency, nor that his mind was a mess of regret and sorrow at that moment “Why are you a whore?”

“I have a daughter who’s three. She eats, you know, at least three times a day, and I need the money, so…”

He gave him a sparing look and thought about the girl and how difficult the world can be for bastard children. It really pained him to hear that answer.

“Don’t give me that look. Just answer.” She rapped out, rolling her eyes “So… are you a virgin or not?”

“ _No_ … not sure, actually. Guess not, but I’m uncertain.” He felt uneasy about that, but didn’t deepened about the subject, even if he watched her suspicious look.

“What’s your daughter’s name?” He asked, ignoring her glare.

“Lyra.”

“Cute.”

“Thanks. What is your job?”

“Blacksmith. Do you enjoy yours?”

“I’m used to it. It’s not that bad. From time to time you meet interesting people, like nice blacksmiths who can’t fuck you, but can certainly divert you.” She gave him a cocky smile that he responded with a squint “Been in the North?”

Odd question, he thought, but answered anyway, feeling a heavy heart as he pronounced _“No.”_

He thought about his next question for a moment, wondering what would be the right thing to ask. And before he could consider it, the inquisition came out of his mouth, like a blurt “Been in love?” It was stupid, he knew, and he did not understand why asking that made him so melancholic all of a sudden.

Dunya bite her lip, thoughtful, her long fingers drumming against her jaw “Once. Lyra’s dad. But he flew away with his old hag of a wife when I told him. He was a pedantic relic, though he had other… _qualities_.” Her lips curved suggestively, and Gendry shuddered uncomfortably, but didn’t say anything “You?”

_Seven hells!_ His mind went blank and his heart slow. He felt a sting inside his gut and his chest hurt so inexplicably it almost felt numb. However, his memory refused to evoke any recall about _anything,_ as if protecting itself. He started to regret playing that stupid game. The only thing he could do was to swallow hard and look at his lap, lost between denial and oblivion.

“Hmm?” She insisted, and even if he didn’t see her, he was quite sure she was giving him a knowing look, as if whores knew everything about it. And they might know, mightn’t they?

But how would _he_ know, anyway? It all ended too soon, and right then it was too late for it to matter. He felt the urge to just dismiss her at once, but that wouldn’t be laudable. Plus, he was aware he had agreed to play that idiotic game, so he was doomed to answer, so he limited himself to nod slowly, as casually as he could “Think so. Have you ever slept with a woman?” He decided to change the subject quickly, praying the gods for her to leave it be.

“Pervert.” She sentenced, squinting at him “Twice.” She said, a smile brightening her face “But I like cocks better.”

Gendry burst in laughter at that, and she seconded him in a matter of seconds. This seemed to lighten the mood a little, which he appreciated.

“Siblings?”

“Nope. Husband?” He asked, thankful that questions had changed course again to trivial.

“Ugh, no.” She sneered, disgusted and he started to laugh once again.

They laughed along and, for a moment, Gendry finally felt like he was safe from tricky inquisitions _._ That was until…

“Who’s Arya?”

And like that, the feeling went away, wrecked behind a heavy pile of guilt and sorrow. His laugh stopped along with his heartbeat. In the pit of his stomach, he could feel a sharp pain growing up. Whether it was the mention of the name or the utter surprise of the question, he had no idea, but he suddenly didn’t feel like answering stupid questions any longer.

“Now I’m tired.” He said, a rotten taste inside his mouth.

“Coward.” She spitted, mockingly.

“G’night.”

“Cheater."

“Just shut your mouth.” He asserted, cuddling in his spot and pretending to close his eyes.

“Sissy.” She insisted.

“How do you know?” He asked, his voice a poisoned whisper, his eyes tightly closed as the rage, and the guilt, and the hopelessness overflowed inside of him.

“You talk in your sleep.” She answered, simply “You were shuddering, and sweating, and you called for her endlessly until you woke up…”

He tried to contain himself but it was too late for his eyes were now annealed and burning, and the last thing he wanted was to fail at performing intercourse with a girl and cry over another in the same night.

“Did she left you?” She asked, testing the ground.

He didn’t answer, just stayed there, trying to normalize his pulse and control his emotions.

“Did she _cheated_ on you?”

_“Shut it.”_ he repeated as a mantra, his eyes remaining close.

“Does she love someone else?-”

“It was _me_ who left her.” He spitted, irked.

Silence, then _another_ question “Why?”

He let out a frustrated snort, one of his own hands squeezing his face “I thought she wasn’t meant for someone like me.” He explained, every word nailing into his chest like a _needle_ “I let her go.”

Dunya stood still, just looking at him.

“She is – _was_ a highborn.”

“And you love her…” That wasn’t a question. No, it was out of question, he knew, but he also knew it was too late.

“She was… my family.” He asserted and the confession just tore him apart. _“She was everything I had, but I wasn’t the same for her.”_ he thought in a quiet, dark, biting whisper, but he didn’t say it out loud.

He heard the silent question in Dunya’s silence.

“She had a family of her own.” Gendry said, as an explanation, swallowing air by the nose harshly “A mother, brothers, a sister.” He told, remembering that longing voice of hers whenever she talked about her favorite brother, Jon, and how he chose to take the black, or about little Rickon, or how Bran used to climb every tower in Winterfell before the falling, or just how brave Robb was. The way her eyes filled with tears -no matter how hard she fought them - every time she mentioned her sister Sansa.

And there he was, opening himself with a prostitute about something he had been hiding for months even to himself just because it seemed like a better idea than just screw with her like any other man would, but he didn’t give a hell about it anymore.

“’Was hard for me to think that without me, she still had something to long for, somewhere to belong…” it amazed him how speaking out this made everything so crystal clear. He proceeded, not being able to stop that idiotic vomit of emotions he was caught into “But me? If not for her, no one needed me, no one _wanted_ me. And she was so eager to return to her family…” _“How could she not?”_ Said a disturbing voice inside his head. A voice that, he realized, sounded a lot like _hers_ _“Her brother was searching for her, desperately, fighting a war just to recover her.”_ But he didn’t said that to Dunya. Instead, he forced himself to breath, and cleaned off that bothersome wetness surging inside his eyes with his forearm “I was angry at her.” He admitted, sighing exhaustedly “She would go back to her life, along with her family, and I thought it will be a matter of time until they betrothed her to some idiotic blueblood, and I would never see her again… and she seemed to be fine with that.”

“Was she?” Dunya’s voice was now quiet, no trace of mockery or cockiness left.

He grinned… a sad grin to say the less. It was until that moment that he realized just how silent it was apart from the two of them –Dunya and him -. He wondered how many hours were left ‘til dawn and then how many time ‘til the pain faded away “She was still a girl.” And something in that assertion was a lot harder to admit than all the latter.

“A girl can know better than any man.” Assured Dunya, her brown eyes fixed on him.

Gendry shook his head “She invited me to come along with her.” His voice broke just a little, and he thought this time he would just fall apart into pieces “She told me she could still be my family…” the memory still made him flinch.

He remembered clearly, the moment she told him _“I can be your family”_ and that was all he ever wanted to hear. Those words, from her. He had been feeling it for a long time; that she was his, and it was obvious he was hers –he was hers in every way someone can be someone else’s, so much that it pained him. And for a moment, he imagined it… he really did, even if it was just a split second; Arya and him, arriving with her brother… but how long would Starks allow a blacksmith to be near their daughter? How long until their paths split apart? Until Arya –fierce, wild Arya - assumed her role as the sister of a King, leaving him behind.

_“She wouldn’t let that happen.”_ He thought, naively. And the next second he knew… It was at that moment that it hit him - that Arya was still a child. And that those words had been told by an innocent child that didn’t understand what was to be a highborn –what it was to be a lady. Which she was whether she liked it or not. And at that moment he was just a blacksmith, a son of no one… and in real life, ladies and bastards were _not_ family.

“Then what was the problem? Why…?” Dunya questioned, notably interested.

“I turned her down.” He said, simply, as his heart beat painfully.

“Why would you do that?” She inquired, truly disappointed.

“Because I was afraid of losing her anyway.” The response came, just like that. He didn’t have any time to filter it, or to shield himself from it. It was just there, like the moon, or the wind.

“And you lost her anyway…” she guessed, sadness spreading all over her face.

_“For good.”_ Told the voice inside himself, mercilessly.

And his silence was enough to answer that statement.

 “A sad story.” Commented Dunya, with a sigh “Seems you’re not as bold as you are handsome.”.

Gendry looked up at her, but he didn’t seem offended, just drained.

“What was she like?”

“Not my turn anymore.” His voice was so _utterly tired_. He didn’t want to remember anymore, it was _way_ too painful.

“Then ask something.”

“No. I think the game ends here.”

He thought she might insist, but she did not. She only let out a soft breath, loosening her posture one more time “You’ve won.” She announced, voice steady.

Gendry smirked, unwillingly.

“Won’t you ask what you have won?” She inquired, now lying on her back, beside his feet.

“What is it?” He questioned, closing his eyes, feeling how the memories, and the grief, and everything else weighted over his eyelids.

“An advice.” She said, with a gentle smile.

“Huh?”

“You should make it up to her.”

Gendry smiled sadly, knowing how impossible it was by then, but choosing to keep it for himself “How so?”

“Perhaps you _did_ lose her.” She asserted “Perhaps you’ll never see her again, only gods know what will happen. But you should live your life differently.”

At that, Gendry lifted an eyebrow at her, barely opening his eyes.

She grunted, annoyed, “I may be a whore, but at least I’m living my life as I please. I fuck men so my baby eats. It may not be the best way to achieve it, but it’s how I want it to be.” She talked with truth, after all. Maybe she was a whore, but she didn’t seem like a sad one. That was _something_ in a shitty world like what they lived in.

“Look, I don’t know you, nor your story, but I’m certain you can do better than _this._ ”

“There were people who attempted to…” he tried to explain himself, amidst tiredness.

“Hush, it’s not of my business. You have a job, a talent, you can settle somewhere and do that job. Or I don’t know, maybe you can go somewhere you like and become _something_. Something this girl, _Arya_ , would want you to do…”

_Arya._ The name hurt whenever he heard it, whether it was in his dreams, or in his mind, or in Dunya’s thick northern accent. He wished she wouldn’t say it anymore.

“I will never make it up to her.” He sentenced, hoarsely “She’s _gone_. And even if she wasn’t, she would never forgive me.”

“Well, maybe she would be right not forgiving you.” Dunya pointed out, shrugging “As I told you, I don’t know so much about family or bonds, or anything. My little girl is the only thing I have in this world, and I have failed her more than once, and I will be failing her for the rest of my life. That I cannot avoid. But that’s the thing about love, and family and stuff… you fail, constantly, but if it matters to you, you make it up, or at least try to do so.”

“She’s…” he started, exasperatedly.

“ _Gone_ , I know. But it doesn’t mean she’s gone _from_ you, does it?”

Gendry remained silent, eyes barely open. The soft light of dawn began to pour through the windows of the room, spilling on the wooden floor and warming through the bare skin of his arm.

Dunya stood up, quickly, and he looked at her, no clear expression on his face.

“Well, handsome,” she said, putting to her feet, her thin dress dancing with the motion “The night’s over, and so am I.” She walked around the bed, facing him with an unreadable smile “I just gave you your prize. Be wise and use it when you need it” she then place a kiss in his cheek, tenderly “You’re a good boy. And you are also a sweetie, so don’t get lost in this mess.”

The boy did not react at the gesture, but stared at the girl as she walked away “Wait.” He called, with a voice so rough he didn’t recognize it.

Dunya stopped before crossing the threshold, her eyes peeking over her lean shoulder.

Once he had her attention, Gendry pondered his words cautiously, staring straight into her eyes “I’m sorry about… y’know” he breathed to regain a bit of confidence “And thanks. For the advice, for listening.”

Dunya stayed quiet for a long moment, then gave him a smile “You paid. I was just earning the money.”

A kind smile curved the boy’s lips as he accommodated better, closing his eyes as a way of dismissing her. Perhaps now he could try to get some sleep.

He waited for the sound of the closing door, and when it didn’t come, he opened his eyes slightly just to find her, brown eyes still fixed on him, and one of her hands still perched on the doorknob. He saw her opening her mouth, the shutting it close again, as if she were about to say something. Her lips tightened a little before she spoke again “There are plenty things you may be able to do, blacksmith. Maybe is a matter of waiting. Besides, as we say in the North…” her lips turned upward, drawing a cryptic line in her face. Gendry felt a wave of chaotic, yet encouraging nostalgia as she pronounced “Winter is coming.” The exact moment after this, the door slammed, leaving him alone in a room full of bittersweet recalls and ambiguous hope.

_“Winter is coming.”_ He repeated in his mind, shifting restlessly in the cot.

What that was supposed to mean, he wasn’t quite sure, but it certainly meant _something._ Like an omen, manifesting in every place he arrived, in every face he bumped into. A reminder; that was what it meant to him. A reminder of the one thing he ever wanted and that he let go.

A breath in, then a breath out, a growing determination burning in the center of his stomach _“You should make it up to her.”_ That was the advice. A good one, if only he had a way.

“A matter of waiting.” He whispered, thoughtfully. Right now, he did not a have a way to make it up to Arya. He only had his remorse, his sorrow and all the memories they shared. Their days on the road, quiet talks beneath the moonlight, and chance smiles, hidden behind the tip of their stubborn lips.

So that was the day Gendry, a bastard son of a dead king, fugitive, blacksmith… _a bullhead_ , decided to wait. To be patient.

He would find a way, gods knew he would.

Until then, he would wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this was my first fanfiction in the Game of Thrones fandom. Hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it.  
> I need to clarify that English is not my mother tongue, though I've been practicing my writing lately, and I assure you, I've put everything that is in my heart in this little piece of story. I've always loved Gendrya, with ALL of my heart, and I just hope this story makes them justice somehow.  
> The idea came to me all of a sudden, at night, and I didn't stop 'til I finish. I dare to say what originated this story was nothing but inspiration in its purest form, but it may have some mistakes that I will be glad to correct if you point them out.  
> I WILL HIGHLY APPRECIATE YOUR COMMENTS AND OPINIONS, PLEASE, FOR GOD'S SAKE, COMMENT, BUT MOST OF IT, ENJOY THIS. I MADE IT WITH ALL MY LOVE!!!


End file.
